Firing Squad
by L.O.A.D
Summary: Jonathan Crane and Jervis Tetch face the firing squad...


"Watch it!" Crane snapped, trying to not let his fear creep into his voice as he was led to his cell. Behind him, Jervis walked besides his guards, limping on the leg that had been injured in their capture. Other than his broken sobs, Jervis was quiet as the grave.

_It would be the grave come dawn tomorrow,_ Jonathan told himself, his face growing grim. That job wasn't worth it, and now it would cost him and Jervis dearly. Instead of being back in Gotham where they belonged, they were going to rot in a Central American prison for a night before being placed against a wall and shot like an ailing dog. Sighing, Jonathan walked over and turned on the sink, intent on cleaning himself up after the fight. Out of the faucet came a filthy, mud brown liquid that he supposed passed for water. He frowned distastefully at it but pushed through. It was better than nothing and it wasn't as though he'd live long enough for it to get him sick. Cupping his hands under the miniature cascade, he let his mind wander into deep thought.

He never thought it would quite end like this. True, he never expected to die peacefully, but he at least expected to die in Gotham. In a fight with Batman perhaps; after going one step too far. Or maybe The Joker would kill him and leave him somewhere for the police to find; a horrifying death rictus plastered into his face. Perhaps Oswald would make good his promise to shoot him in the head and bury him upstate in a pre-dug hole…but no. He wouldn't die like that. The firing squad. Firing Squad. "Ready, Aim, Fire" and it was all over. _Thanatophobia._ Fear of dying. Jonathan wondered if it would overtake him as he stared down the barrels of the guns aimed to end his life. He doubted it. They'd probably blindfold him, letting the dread take over. The feeling of not knowing exactly when death woul…

"Would you like to go to Wonderland?" Jervis asked innocently, his voice cutting into Jonathan's thoughts. "You can meet Alice." Jonathan's shoulders slumped and he let out a breath that was a cross between a sigh and a broken sob.

"You know I can't go with you, Jervis," he said, not looking at the other man as he washed his arms and face clean of blood.

"Oh," Jervis said, and Jonathan could hear the frown in his voice. When Jervis didn't say anything else, Jonathan had assumed he had escaped back into Wonderland, and so went back to his own thoughts. Turning the sink off, he wondered over and sat down on the bench, next to the bars that separated his cell from Jervis'. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift to everything he would miss now that they were about to taken from him forever. A light summer breeze. The first chill of autumn. Winter's first fall. As odd as it sounded, he'd even miss that damnable asylum.

"Jonathan?" Jervis said. "Are you sure? It's not hard. Just close your eyes and think of rabbits." Jonathan sighed.

"I'm sure," he muttered, trying to keep his voice level. He had to be brave, be strong. For Jervis' sake, the other man couldn't know just how afraid he truly was. For some reason, Jervis looked up to him. If he saw Jonathan crack…

"Then I'll stay here," Jervis said. "Alice had to play croquet anyway. This place is hot and damp, you shouldn't be here alone." Jonathan smiled and slipped his hand through the bars, taking hold of Jervis'. They sat back to back, reciting the poems and stories they had each committed to memory. When one finished, the other would start. They continued through the night until the first rays of light shown over the horizon.

Dawn was heralded by the chorus of the native birds. To anyone else it would have seemed a lovely melody, but all Jonathan heard was the sounding of his own requiem. The sound of footsteps filled the hall as the general and seven soldiers approached. The cells were unlocked and three soldiers entered each cell. Jervis pressed himself into the corner, whimpering and Jonathan tensed.

_Don't let them hurt him,_ he prayed silently to a God who had never answered him. The three soldiers forced Jonathan's hands behind his back and tied them together at the wrists before blindfolding him while their fellows did the same to Jervis. He was then marched outside and shoved against a wall, with Jervis not far behind him.

"Jonathan," Jervis moaned. "I'm scared." Jonathan swallowed and took the smaller man's hand the best he could with his own tied behind his back. It was awkward, and the angle hurt his shoulder, but he didn't care. Just as long as Jervis knew he wasn't alone. Just as long as _Crane _knew he wasn't alone…

"I know," he said, more of a breath than a whisper. "So am I." He felt Jervis nod and the other man's grip on his hand tightened...or maybe that was his own grip tightening. Jonathan let out a shuddering breathe. There was something liberating about admitting he was scared. Admitting that he wasn't as strong as he'd like to be. That he was powerless to stop…

"Do the condemned have any last words?" The general's voice cut into Jonathan's thoughts. Jervis whimpered and pressed himself against Jonathan, all but hiding behind him, while Jonathan took a deep breath and held it, closing his eyes. Last words. Last words… how could two words sound so final? He released the breath he was holding and opened his eyes against. Darkness. Nothing to be seen but the simple scrap of cloth blinding him to the world. With nothing to see, he closed his eyes again and let his other senses take over. He focused on his sense of smell, taking a deep breath and letting the stench of smoke and gunpowder fill him. He swallowed; tasting the metallic tang of his own blood mix with the grime of the water he had been given. Switching gears, he focused on the sounds around him. The sound of animals in the forest. The sound of his breathing and Jervis' mixing together. His own heart thudding away in his ear, its quick, steady beats telling him it knew what was about to come. Through his heart, hearing gave way to touch. He could feel the warmth of Jervis' body pressed to his own; feel The Mad Hatter trembling like a newborn calf taking its first steps. Blinking, Jonathan opened his eyes and tightened his grip on Jervis' hand.

_Last words,_ he thought again. Usually when one thought of last words, they thought of something profound. My only regret it that I have but one life to give to my family…Et tu brute…Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do…_More weight_ even. But now, standing before death, Jonathan could not think of anything to say that would be worthy of memory…worthy of The Scarecrow. Worthy of the man who had brought Batman to his knees. Probably, Jonathan realized, because he _wasn't_ that man. He wasn't Jonathan Crane, Master of Fear. Instead, he was Jonathan Crane, the prisoner. Jonathan Crane, the condemned. Jonathan Crane, the man who was but mere _minutes_ from death. Fighting back a sob; Jonathan swallowed. If he couldn't use his last words to be remembered, then he'd use them to comfort Jervis.

"Go to Wonderland," he told the shaking form. "It's better there. You don't want to stay for this." To his surprise, he felt Jervis shake his head.

"Not without you," he said. "I'm not leaving you to face this alone." He then added, grimly, "we'll _both_ be in Wonderland soon enough." Jonathan's mind went blank, stunned by Jervis' sudden burst of clarity. To Jonathan's surprise, the other man knew exactly where he was, and what was about to occur. Unable to find the right words to express his gratitude for not having to face death alone, he simply nodded, knowing perfectly well Jervis couldn't see him. At that moment Jonathan heard someone, the general, he assumed, snap his fingers and speak.

"READY!"

_Dear God take Jervis quickly. Don't let him suffer._

"AIM!"

_Shoot straight; you're only killing a man._

"FIRE!"

Crane flinched, as though the word itself was a bullet. Blindfolded or not, he closed his eyes. Behind him he could feel Jervis trembling, holding onto the doctor's hand as though it was his only connection to the world. In that brief moment from when the order was given to when the bullets hit, his mind drifted back to Gotham. To Arkham; the only place he had felt at home. To the others. To Eddie. To Selina. To Harley, The Joker, hell, even to Batman. It was at this point he thought he heard something fly through the air. The sound was familiar, but he couldn't quite place its owner. A bullet perhaps? No, the guns hadn't fired yet. And it didn't seem to _fly_ as much as it seemed to _**cut**_. Like a winged blade. Like a metal….

His mind stalled as the identity of the sound became _very_ clear indeed. Jervis must have heard and recognized it too, because his grip on Jonathan's hand tightened at the same time he slipped out from behind his hiding spot behind Jonathan. Something large and heavy hit the ground next to them and out of instinct Jonathan flinched, recognizing, or at least _hoping_ he recognized, the way the ground shook slightly. He felt a blade slice free his hands of their binds and he immediately brought his hands up to remove the blindfold, ready to see his rescuer.

_**BATMAN**_

Jonathan's eyes locked with those of the masked vigilante and understood instantly what his glare meant: _run._ Using the crime fighter's cape as cover, Jonathan untied Jervis' hands and took the blindfold off his face.

"We need to run," he whispered. "_Can_ you?" He added, looking down at Jervis' bleeding leg. Jervis started at him, seemingly in a daze. Swallowing, Jonathan started to creep away from the fight, nudging Jervis along. This seemed to snap the other man out of his stupor and Jervis quickened his pace. In a matter of minutes they were full on running through the woods. Or rather, they were before Jervis' leg gave out. Jonathan heard Jervis' fall and skidded to a halt. He turned around and saw two things, the first was Jervis on the ground, and the second was two armed soldiers on their trail. Jonathan froze, looking from Jervis to the men about to kill them both. Every instinct in his body told him to leave Jervis and run; just turn around and not look back. He started to back up when his eyes locked with those Jervis. He swallowed, his mouth going dry. Jervis could have gone into Wonderland; could have left him to deal with the harsh reality alone. But he didn't. Resisting every instinct in his body, Jonathan rushed forward, throwing his arms around the other man and shielded Jervis with his own body just as the soldiers reached them both. He heard the sound of guns being cocked and aimed, but held strong.

"Kill me," he growled, holding Jervis tighter. "Just let Jervis live."

"On your feet," one of the soldiers ordered. Jonathan didn't listen. Let the shoot him, he was going to die anyway. Just as he felt the barrel of the gun jab him in between his shoulder blade, he felt something hit the ground for the second time that day. He glanced up, and caught sight of Batman standing roughly 35 feet away from them. The soldiers spotted him as well, for they lifted their guns off from the two prisoners and aimed at the cowled figure before them. Jonathan smiled.

_Three, two, one…_ he counted off, wondering if the Dark Knight would act as expected. And, sure enough, he didn't disappoint. A split second before they could fire, two batarangs appeared and buried themselves in the soldier's hands. Then, the moment they were free of the soldiers' grip, the batclaw snatched them up and cast them into the forest.

"There are approximately two hundred and six bones in the average adult human," Batman growled, stepping forward. A familiar chill ran down Jonathan's spine and only the knowledge the bat was here to save him kept him from cowering back with the soldiers. "How many of yours will I need to break in order to get you to leave?" Evidently none, Jonathan thought to himself, watching as the soldiers turned and fled without a fight. Wise choice…Batman didn't kill, but ithey/i didn't know that…

"Are you hurt?" A deep growl asked, cutting into his thoughts. Jonathan looked up at his savior and shook his head, getting shakily to his feet.

"I'm fine," he said, helping Jervis up. "A few scrapes and cuts, nothing too bad. Jervis has a rather nasty wound on his leg though…" he paused, looking at Batman and frowning. "What are you _doing_ here? It's rather far from your usual haunts, and we all know how attached you are to Gotham…" Batman's gaze narrowed as he looked at Crane.

"I've been tailing you too since you left Gotham," he said, bending down to look at Jervis' leg. "In case there was trouble." He reached into his belt and pulled out what appeared to be disinfectant.

"Do you mean trouble as in us causing it, or getting into it?" Jonathan asked, his interest piqued.

"Both," Batman responded, placing the bottle back into his belt and picking Jervis up. "We should leave before more soldiers show up."

"Agreed," Jonathan said. He followed Batman deeper into the jungle until finally they reached the Batplane. Jonathan climbed inside and sat down in the back before taking Jervis from Batman.

"Are you alright?" Jonathan asked his friend, troubled by the other man's silence. Jervis looked up at him, exhaustion evident in his eyes.

"Where are we going?" He asked. Jonathan opened his mouth but before he could speak Batman was already talking.

"Home," the crime fighter said simply. Jonathan glanced up at the back of the figure in front of him. What peculiar choice of words…_HOME._ Not Arkham; not Gotham; not even back to the US. No, Batman hadn't said any of those. HOME. He had said HOME. Strictly speaking, it was were one lived, but its connotations made it something so much more. Safety, comfort, friends, family. Jonathan smiled.

"He's right Jervis," he said, looking down at his friend who had already fallen asleep. Taking Tetch's lead, he leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

_We're going home._


End file.
